


feeding my flame

by guilt_is_for_mortals, quantumducky



Series: Eyes on Fire [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bondage, Canon Asexual Character, Fluff and Smut, Hand Feeding, M/M, Oral Sex, Sharing a Bed, strawberries are a sexy fruit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23563669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guilt_is_for_mortals/pseuds/guilt_is_for_mortals, https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumducky/pseuds/quantumducky
Summary: With the Magnus Institute destroyed, Jon is suffering from the slow withdrawal of the Eye's influence. Fortunately, Martin knows exactly how to take his mind off of it.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: Eyes on Fire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695955
Comments: 16
Kudos: 212





	feeding my flame

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the first fic in this series, all you really need to know as context for this is that we're somewhere in the first half of season 3, and Jon and Martin have just burned down the Institute and also kissed.

In the wake of the Magnus Institute’s destruction, Jon wasn’t doing so well. It felt as if the tie he’d cut had been of stretched elastic, and now came the part where it snapped back and hit him in the face. There was a twisted perversion of homesickness aching in his chest, trying to draw him back to a place that no longer existed. He dug his fingernails into his own arms, hunched over in the passenger seat while Martin drove them home- well, to _his_ home, at least- and tried not to be too much of a distraction from his focus on the road.

It wasn’t fair, he thought, that after all that, the Eye still wouldn’t let him go. His body was exhausted, all he wanted to do was sleep, and yet there it was in his head, insisting he should be _doing something,_ finding new statements to replace all the ones they’d burned, trying to tell him he couldn’t let himself rest until he’d rebuilt everything that had been lost. If he didn’t know how little it actually cared about anything, he would suspect it was _punishing_ him.

The car came to a stop. By the time Jon managed to have the thought, _I should get out now,_ Martin had come around and opened his door, and even reached over to undo his seat belt for him.

“Come on, let’s get you inside, and we can wash all this off and go to bed.”

Jon did his best to cooperate, and while he wasn’t sure how _helpful_ he actually was in the endeavor, he found himself in Martin’s flat by the next time he looked up. Maybe he had walked here. He didn’t _remember_ doing that. Maybe- he blushed slightly- maybe Martin had carried him, to get him up the stairs.

He was being asked a question. Martin looked worried that he wasn’t answering.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “What?”

“Can you deal with the shower by yourself?” Martin asked again. “If I show you where everything is? I just- I don’t want you to, to pass out and drown or anything, so… I can stay in the room if you want, just in case, o-or I can… help you, but- I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Jon didn’t answer right away. Martin, apparently, felt compelled to fill any such silence with more words of his own.

“Or- I mean, if you’re too tired, but you don’t want me in there, there’s always… you can just get the worst of it with a wet cloth and take a proper shower in the morning, you don’t have to- I just don’t want you to feel like you _have_ to do anything, alright? Except, well, you _do_ have to clean up _somehow,_ I’m not letting you go to bed covered in ashes like that.”

After all that, Jon had to backtrack through his rambling to remember what he was being asked in the first place. It was difficult, because the only thing his mind seemed willing to focus on right now was how tired he was, and how badly he wanted to sleep, and everything he should be doing _instead_ of that, and Martin was holding him up with an arm around his waist, and it was warm and strong and keeping him from falling over, and wasn’t that so nice? It was lovely, Martin was lovely.

Ah. He needed to clean up, before he could sleep. Maybe that was what the feeling in the back of his head meant, when it insisted there was something he had to do first. If he took a shower, maybe it would go away and let him rest. But he didn’t think he could do that on his own, no, he thought he would probably just sit down under the water and fall asleep right there. Worse, Martin wouldn’t be holding onto him anymore.

“Come with me,” he sighed, leaning into Martin, just as he’d started looking concerned again by the lack of answer. “Too tired to be alone, I don’t mind if you see me.”

His forehead was touching Martin’s cheek, now, and he felt it grow a little warmer. “Okay,” Martin said, a little strangled and a little too quickly. “Just… let me know if you change your mind, or if I do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay?”

“You won’t,” Jon said, with a certainty born of being unable to think of anything Martin _could_ do he wouldn’t be comfortable with, “but okay.”

As they moved into the bathroom, Martin couldn’t help but wonder at the easy, automatic trust Jon placed in him. Such a contrast from the suspicious, paranoid wreck he had been a while ago, or even the prickliness when they’d first started working together. Now, he leaned into Martin’s careful efforts to guide him like there was no possible world in which he would ever let him fall.

All Martin could think was that it was a really, _really_ good thing he was right about that, because on his own, the poor man didn’t seem to have the energy or awareness to undress himself, and it seemed likely that without help he’d be showering with his pants and socks still on. Fortunately, he _did_ have help, and Martin undid all his buttons for him and helped him out of his clothes. Jon leaned on him the entire time, closing his eyes against the light overhead, and let out a nearly inaudible breath of relief at each filthy, uncomfortable item removed. Martin tried very hard and with increasing urgency not to stare at his newly exposed skin, but he couldn’t exactly _not_ look at him, could he? 

And. _Well._ Jon may have been exhausted, and hurting, and covered in ash and sweat, but he was no less _pretty-_ if anything, from a certain angle, all of that made him even more appealing. A sort of… action-hero vibe to him, if action heroes had been known for leaning into people trustingly while half-asleep and naked, and _okay, it was definitely time for Martin to stop thinking about this and get on with the cleaning-up before he made things any harder to deal with than they already were._ Jon had kissed him _once,_ that didn’t mean he should be having _these_ kinds of thoughts about him.

He shed his own clothes as quickly as possible, thankful that Jon wasn’t looking at _him_ any more than he was looking at anything else, mostly just closing his eyes and trying not to fall asleep entirely. After checking that the water was warm enough, he shepherded Jon into the shower, and bit his lip as he realized it had _really_ not been designed to hold two people at once- which he ought to have known already, with how long he’d been living here, but it had never really come up before, had it? It was- it was fine. There was no way to really avoid being all but pressed together the entire time, and that was _fine,_ and he wasn’t going to make it weird, it was just- the most practical way to do things right now.

“Jon,” he tried. It came out much higher and more… _whispery_ than he wanted. He cleared his throat to try again, and sound normal about it this time. _“Jon._ Hey. Don’t fall asleep yet.”

Jon physically shook himself awake- _adorable,_ Martin’s brain supplied- and got his eyes properly open, blinking up at him. “Sorry.”

“Look, I know you’re tired, but I would feel _really weird_ about- about all this, if you’re not awake to make sure it’s okay, so just- we’ll go to bed as soon as we’re done here, but you have to stay awake for now, okay?”

He nodded. “I will. I… I’ll try.” One of his hands found Martin’s chest for support as he straightened up, and Martin tried _very_ hard not to feel any particular kind of way about it. “Sorry,” he said again. “Where… you have… things? To wash with?”

“Right- yes.” Martin was sure his face was red by now, but Jon was definitely too sleepy to notice, so at least he was safe there. “Got a washcloth for you right here, and there’s the soap… yeah, there you go.”

He probably should have been worrying about getting _himself_ clean, at this point, but he was even _more_ worried about elbowing Jon in the face if they both tried to maneuver around each other at once in such a cramped space, so… Maybe just wait until he was done, get him somewhere he could doze off more safely, and _then_ deal with all that. Yes. Right now, he could just be patient and make sure Jon stayed alert long enough to clean up.

To Martin’s _great_ relief, he mostly managed that by himself, and he was not required to subject himself to the torture it would have been to give any more… intensive help than keeping him upright when he had to bend to reach his legs. But once he was done scrubbing the dirt from his body, he sighed and slumped into Martin again, like it had taken all the energy he had left- and his hair was still an absolute _mess._

There was only one thing to be done, it seemed, and, _well._ It wouldn’t have been fair of Martin to make him go to bed like that, or exhaust himself even further, just because the whole situation was kind of really turning him on and there was nothing he could actually _do_ about it.

“Jon?”

He looked up again, and even that was a visible effort for him at this point.

“Do you mind- I mean, would you like me to wash your hair for you?”

Jon’s face brightened. It was like he hadn’t even considered that asking for additional help was an option available to him. “Yes, I- if _you_ don’t mind. Please.”

And- _god._ The _look_ he was giving him, all soft and open and… Martin had to close his own eyes for a moment and steady himself. “Alright,” he breathed. “Just… you can lean your head on my shoulder, there- you should close your eyes if you don’t want shampoo in them, but try not to fall asleep? Yeah, that’s good. Just… yeah. I’ll take care of it for you.”

Jon absolutely _melted_ against him, even more so with every quiet word of encouragement. Martin was sure he was the only thing keeping him from becoming a boneless puddle on the floor of the shower, except he pushed that metaphor out of his head as quickly as possible, because in their line of work- _former_ line of work- it was _way_ too easy to start thinking about what that would look like in literal terms.

Then Martin started actually working the shampoo into his hair, and was unprepared for the result all over again. Jon didn’t just lean into his hands, or let out a breathy, contented sigh, even though either of those things on their own would have been enough to make Martin struggle to remember what he was doing- no, he had to go and make this little _noise_ as soon as Martin’s hands were in his hair, a soft whine that roughly translated to _do not under any circumstances stop what you’re currently doing._ Martin had to stop for a second to collect himself, which was, of course, exactly what Jon hadn’t wanted. He raised his head and blinked water out of his eyes, squinting at Martin and trying to work out why he’d stopped, and then apparently registered for the first time that he’d made a sound at all and looked embarrassed.

“Sorry- I- was that-”

“No, no, you’re fine, shush.” 

He shifted his hands down to cup Jon’s face. This was meant to be sweet, but had the side effects of getting a bit of shampoo on his cheeks and squishing his face a little, and Jon wrinkled his nose. At the same time, though, he tilted his head forward _into_ the offending hands, so Martin was getting conflicting signals, here- he tried and failed not to laugh, which only made Jon look more disgruntled.

“Really, Jon, it’s fine, you just- I wasn’t sure if it was a _good_ noise or, or if I pulled your hair or something?” This was absolutely, one hundred percent a lie, and Martin was sure he only got away with it because Jon was too tired to notice when things didn’t exactly make sense.

“Oh… good. You didn’t,” he mumbled, eyes already closing again. “You’re very… very gentle with me. It’s nice. Thank you.”

That just wasn’t _fair,_ now he was turned on _and_ choked up with emotion. “‘Course,” he managed, and nudged Jon’s head back down before he could say anything _else_ unbearably soft. “You… you make all the noises you want, don’t worry about it, it’s fine.”

Now he was mumbling into Martin’s collarbone, sending vibrations into his skin, which was both nearly impossible to understand and another thing to add to the pile of reasons Martin was not going to survive this. “‘m… it’s… good?” He sounded unsure. Like he was genuinely worried about this, looking for reassurance.

Martin tried to get the soap off his face and returned to untangling his hair. “It’s good,” he confirmed. “Just tell me if I do hurt you at all. …And thank you for staying awake for me, you’re doing a really great job, I know you’re tired.”

He whined again at that, hid his face even more than it already was, and Martin filed _that_ away to think about later. Right now he needed to focus on getting Jon’s hair washed. Preferably as quickly as possible, because with explicit permission he was even _noisier_ about how nice it felt, actually outright _moaned_ at one point, and at this point half Martin’s attention was going to making sure Jon didn’t catch on to how it was, ah, _affecting_ him. He could only hope he was sleepy enough to keep his eyes closed, because he was now blushing with his entire body, not to mention quite hard. As much as Martin didn’t want to rush things when Jon was so… obviously enjoying it… he couldn’t stand to be in this position any longer. As soon as Jon’s hair was rinsed clean, he ushered him out of the shower and into a bathrobe that absolutely swallowed him, and tucked a bath towel around his own waist to show him to the bedroom.

“Here we are, I… assume you won’t mind sharing the bed. I’ve got to finish showering, you just wait here and I’ll see if I have anything you can wear when I get back, alright?”

Jon nodded slowly, but Martin wasn’t sure if he should take that as actual agreement or just a sign that he’d realized a question was being asked. Either way, he hurried back to the bathroom to finish getting clean and, ah, take care of himself, so he would actually be able to lie down next to Jon without immediately bursting into flames.

By the time Martin returned to the bedroom, Jon was out cold, and didn’t stir in the slightest when he tried saying his name and gently shaking him. Ah well, it wasn’t the end of the world if he slept in a damp bathrobe, and Martin didn’t have the energy to worry about it too much. For his own part, he pulled on the first pajama bottoms he could find, then switched the light off and pulled the blankets up over Jon before getting under them himself. Jon rolled over in his sleep and latched onto him- so he could do _that,_ but not wake up enough to put actual clothes on? Not that Martin minded, of course. He wrapped an arm around him and went to sleep almost immediately himself.

* * *

Jon woke up to the feeling of being warm and safe. Something had to be wrong here. Very slowly, as waves of consciousness fought their way back out of the deep ocean of sleep, fragments of memory returned to his mind. Setting fire to the Institute. Kissing Martin. The stinging smell of gasoline in his nose. Martin, slowly undressing him in the shower…

He was warm because he was lying on top of Martin. Arms and legs wrapped around him tightly, toasty heat radiating from the other’s naked skin, enveloped in warmth between Martin and the blanket. Letting out a deep sigh he squirmed a little, trying to get even more comfortable, trying to fall back asleep, because Martin was still snoring slightly and Jon had no intention of waking him. He did not wake up, not fully at least, but he let out a deep, soft sigh that vibrated right through every fiber of Jon’s body. 

That was really _nice._ He decided to try if he could coax such a sound out of Martin's mouth again, squirming again on top of him. This time the sigh was much closer to a moan and he could feel Martin moving slightly underneath him this time. Jon buried his face in Martin's soft chest hair and lay still for a while, waiting for him to fall back asleep. He didn’t. He tried to turn underneath Jon, who absolutely would not have that right now and just clung to Martin’s body like an octopus. He rolled his hips again, experimentally, and now realized what it was that made the other let out such delicious sounds. 

Jon could feel Martin going hard underneath his hips. Fascinating. Jon of course knew that this was a thing that happened, but he had never experienced it himself. Waking up hard. Or had Martin had a _very nice_ dream? Some blurred memories came up in his mind. Martin undressing him yesterday. They stood so close in the shower. Martin washing his hair, his fingers so soft, massaging his head slightly. The memories were very nice, and Martin had been much more awake than he himself had been. 

“I’m sorry,” he could hear Martin murmuring, voice still deep but adorably sleepy. Jon just pressed into him, snuggling up against Martin’s body. 

“If you let me out, I’ll take…”

“No.” Jon slightly shook his head. If Martin also hadn’t opened his eyes yet he would probably still feel it against his chest. Jon softly pressed his lips against the spot of skin that was easiest to reach from his current position, somewhere around Martin's collarbone. 

“Don’t… doesn’t bother me. Stay. You’re warm.” He could feel Martin grow even hotter underneath him. Was he blushing? And there was this soft moan again, as Jon lifted his sleep heavy hands, loosening his tight hug and starting to just let his fingers wander over Martins skin. So nice and warm. Jon smiled to himself thinking of all the freckles on Martins arms and shoulders. Probably also on his chest. On his thighs. He wanted to touch them all, one day, if it made Martin just sigh and squirm slightly underneath him like he did now. 

“I just don’t want to make you-”

“You aren’t,” Jon murmured, sliding up a bit so he could kiss Martin's neck and up to his ear. 

“I’m the one on top of you, right? So I am doing nothing I don’t want to.” He whispered the words into Martin's ear and felt the other shiver underneath him. His hands were still exploring Martin’s body.

“Okay…” Martin agreed sleepily. “Feels so nice… hmhm…” 

Jon took that as permission to feel and touch and squirm, to make Martin moan and sigh and lean into his touch. Feeling Martin's dick growing hard against his own was a bit much for Jon, though, and so he shifted a bit, letting himself glide off of Martin, but keeping as close as he could. Now his hands were free to wander over all of Martin’s soft belly, to teasingly go even lower, touching him through the light fabric of his pyjama trousers. At this, Martin let out a groan that sent a shiver down Jons spine. He wanted to hear that again. 

Jon often was shy in this kind of situation, and he had never really done anything like this with someone else, but this was not anyone. It was Martin. He knew that here, in the arms of Martin Blackwood, he was safe and happy and that Martin would never expect anything from him that he wouldn’t be willing to give. 

He felt himself blush as he let one hand slide underneath the waistband of Martins pyjama bottoms, but he was curious. Gliding over the hard length with only his fingertips at first, Martin shivering beneath him and letting out such pretty sounds again. Then he curled his fingers around it, getting used to the weight and the feeling. He liked it. Especially when he could hear and feel how much Martin loved it, how he pulled Jon in closer. Jon opened his eyes now, slowly, to see Martin in the crumpled up bed sheets, biting his lower lip.

“Don’t hold back, Martin…” he whispered against the other's ear again, kissing the soft spot of his neck right underneath it. “I like to hear you. To know that I make you feel good.”

That permission seemed to be what Martin had needed. He let go of his lower lip and groaned when Jon started to stroke him now, slow and teasing, wanting to make Martin feel so good and just relax after what he had done for him yesterday. The shower must have been… something. Jon felt warm and fuzzy inside thinking he had been so close and naked to Martin, and he didn’t get aroused much by something like that. But Martin, who definitely was much more of a sexual person than him… he had been nothing but a perfect gentleman of course, but still.

“Hnngh… Jon.” He had let his thumb glide over the other's slit, testing, trying to find out what he liked the most, while his other hand started to wander again, over Martin's chest, teasing a nipple with his fingers. This seemed to be a good combination. Jon did not exactly know what _sexy_ really was, but if he had to try and define it, it would be this. Martin Blackwood moaning his name while his hands were on his cock and nipples. 

“... ‘m not gonna last long…” Jon heard Martin whisper and tried to change position a bit, so he could stroke faster without feeling like his arm was about to fall off. From this new, half kneeling position he also had a wonderful few over Martin who lay there sprawled out in the sheets, the sun falling in through a slit in the curtains painting his skin and hair rose gold. Jon felt much more awake than he had wanted to be just a few minutes ago, but he also wouldn’t have wanted to miss this few. 

“D-don’t stop… ah… Jon!” It only took a few last strokes, combined with his thumb smearing pre-come over the hot, swollen head of Martin's cock and Martin came apart underneath him. Hot, milky liquid spilled over his hand, a bit sticky, but the sounds coming out of Martin's mouth, the way he threw his head back into the pillows, that was more than worth it. Jon cleaned his hand on the bathrobe he realized he was still wearing, naked underneath. Then he let himself sink back against Martin, nuzzling his nose against the others neck, kissing it once, twice, a third time.

Now it was Martin’s time to shift, he turned them around, eyes blinking sleepily, his cheeks blushing very prettily. He kissed Jon softly, smiling at him widely as he lifted a hand to brush some stray locks out of Jon’s face. 

“Good morning, Jon.”

“Good morning, Martin.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, when Martin started to squirm. He looked unsure all at once and Jon wondered if he had done something wrong.

“Is… everything okay?” 

“Are… are we…” Martin stopped, took a deep breath. “Maybe we should talk about _this._ And what… _we_ are?”

Jon nodded, his eyes going wide. After the kiss yesterday, after the shower and sleeping in this bed… taking all his own feelings into consideration, he had just assumed that this was also what Martin felt. But maybe they really should talk about it. 

“I… I mean, well… I do have… feelings for you, Martin. I am not… you know I am not someone to quickly… I wouldn’t have done any of this if there weren’t feelings involved. But, if… if you feel different about this…”

“No!” Martin answered, a bit too fast and loud, and his face grew hot and the blush spread down onto his chest now. “No, Jon, I… I definitely have feelings for you. And, if you also want to, I would like to… you know. We could… have a relationship?”

“Is this you asking me to be your boyfriend, Martin?”

“Oh, shut it!”

Jon raised his head to kiss Martin once again, smiling into the kiss and outright grinning up to Martin when they parted.

“Because I would very much like to be your boyfriend.” 

“Good. That’s good. I… I also want to be your boyfriend, Jon.” 

“Good.”

They kissed for a while, cuddling, caressing each other, none of them wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of each others embrace. But then Martin’s stomach growled, making Jon laugh against his lips.

“Maybe we should… get some breakfast? I really could use some tea now. And you should eat.”

“Yeah, we probably should. I think I’ve got enough at home… scrambled eggs and toast?”

Jon nods, and they manage to get out of bed, limbs getting a bit stuck between the bathrobe and the blankets.

“But first we both… really should clean up.” Martin looked down at his pretty sticky pyjama bottoms and Jon agreed wholeheartedly, wanting to wash his hands very much. It felt so strangely domestic, the two of them standing next to each other in the bathroom, cleaning up, brushing their teeth. Martin was an actual grown up and had a spare toothbrush, Jon was impressed. He also had enough groceries at home to make scrambled eggs, butter some toast and make tea with both sugar and milk in it. 

While getting dressed, searching through the bag of clothes he had already stacked at Martin’s flat, Jon’s eyes fell onto a big, violently patterned and extremely soft looking jumper. It was violet and covered in a print of little black cats with yellow eyes. It was perfect. Surely Martin wouldn’t notice if he just… For a few moments he just buried his face into the fabric. It smelled like Martin. Not able to stop himself even if he wanted to, he pulled the jumper over his head. The sleeves were so long that he could hide his fingers in them and it went all the way down to his knees. Perfect. 

Jon still felt terribly sleepy, probably the aftermath of the Institute burning down. But then, he hadn’t felt really awake in the last two years or so. As he came back into the kitchen he sank against Martin’s back with a deep sigh, slinging his arms around the other's middle. He hoped that it was okay, but Martin just kept cooking, humming along with the radio, until he turned around and wrapped Jon up in his arms. He let out a surprised gasp that, under other circumstances, he would have been very embarrassed about. 

As it was now, though, he felt the most relaxed he had in _years,_ and there was too much affection in him at the moment to leave room for embarrassment. He leaned into the hug happily. There was still a restless itch in the back of his mind, courtesy of the Eye trying to call its Archivist back to work, and the previous day’s headache was starting to come back, but it was easier to ignore when Martin was holding him. He couldn’t go anywhere if he wanted to, when he was being held in place here, could he? Sadly, it couldn’t last very long, since he was still cooking. It was only a few seconds before Martin had to let him go and turn back to watch their food. A soft, grumbly noise escaped Jon’s throat, and he latched on again himself, trying to get back the calm, anchored feeling from a moment ago.

Martin laughed. “Someone’s clingy this morning… Are you ever going to finish waking up?”

“No,” Jon answered immediately, and only got even more inconveniently cuddly. He didn’t _want_ to finish waking up- he knew the Eye would only get harder to resist, the more alertness and energy he had for it to use. Martin just laughed at him again, fond, and let him keep clinging.

They stood there for a little while, enjoying the peace and domestic feeling that neither of them was really accustomed to. Despite his best efforts, Jon could feel himself waking up more, familiar stress settling back on his shoulders even as he tried not to let himself think too much about what came next for him. He couldn’t _really_ believe everything was over now, could he? Was this how the world worked now, when it had never been at all kind to him before? Really, it hadn’t even been an hour since they got out of bed, and he was already failing in his intention to just _relax_ for one day. Just as he was mentally scolding himself- which wasn’t making him any less stressed- something occurred to him.

“Martin,” he said- quickly, before he could overthink it. “Didn’t you say something yesterday about… tying me to your bed to make me rest?”

Martin startled, nearly knocking the eggs onto the floor. When he’d saved them and turned to look at Jon, he was blushing down to his collar. “I- oh _god,_ I actually said that, didn’t I,” he groaned. “I wasn’t thinking, okay, I _swear_ that was a joke, I wasn’t really trying to- to _proposition_ you in the middle of-”

“Oh.” Jon looked away, down at the floor. “Right. Of course.”

It didn’t take Eye powers to see he was disappointed, and trying unsuccessfully to hide it. “…Jon?”

“Mm?”

“Do- do you _want_ me to- do that?”

“Not if you don’t actually want to,” Jon clarified hurriedly, which was very much _not_ what Martin had been trying to say. “It’s just that- we’re supposed to be _done,_ but I still have the Beholding in my head and it wants me to go out and _do_ things for it, and get back all the knowledge we lost, and- I’m not going to, obviously, but it’s… not going to be easy to ignore. I thought if, if I couldn’t _move,_ it might… it would be easier, at least.”

That was a little worrying, but Martin filed it away to deal with if it actually became a problem and nodded. “And this is all Jon-speak for telling me it will help you relax, right?” He paused. “I mean, you will actually _enjoy_ it, and it’s not just the first thing you thought of to keep yourself from being compelled to go anywhere? Because if it’s just that, there are _probably_ easier solutions than… that.”

Now, Jon avoided his eyes for an entirely different reason. “No, I… I think I would, ah, enjoy it.” He swallowed. “Very much.”

“In that case-” Martin ducked down and tilted his face up to kiss him- “I would be _more_ than happy to tie you up.”

Jon squeaked involuntarily and blinked up at him, startled and flustered, and Martin wanted to kiss him again just for looking at him like _that._ Unfortunately, that was when they both caught an unpleasant burning smell.

_“Martin!”_

“Oh, _shit,_ the eggs!”

* * *

They managed to rescue enough of the eggs to make a decent breakfast. They talked, though most of the time was spent with both of them glancing at the other, smiling like idiots and taking just enough time away from holding hands to butter a piece of toast before at least linking up fingers again. As they washed up the dishes Jon got back his usual restlessness, the Eye’s influence growing stronger in his mind even through the wonderful buzzing of feeling loved. 

“Well… are you still sure you want to do this?”

They stood in Martins bedroom again, where Martin had pulled out a seemingly innocent black box from the bottom of his wardrobe. Inside were a few of the toys he loved to play with, both himself and with others. Though the _others_ part had been quite some time ago. After falling for Jon he had once or twice tried to get his mind off of Jon with someone else. It hadn’t worked out and in the end he just as well could use the occasional toy when the urge overcame him. 

But this at least meant that he was owner of a few beautiful silk ties and knew how to use them, a gift from a person he once thought he had loved. How silly this seemed now, when Jon was right here with him. He had never felt like this for anyone, the way he loved Jon. While pulling the black ties out from the very bottom of their box, he noticed Jon reluctantly undressing again, keeping on only his underwear and watching Martin with interest and quite a nervous expression on his pretty face.

“As we won’t block your mouth with anything you can always just tell me if you want to stop, okay. I will occasionally ask you, too, but you’re always free to just tell me. _Green_ if everything is alright and I can go on, _Yellow_ if you’re still okay but I need to slow down and change and _Red_ have me stop immediately, untie you, no questions asked, okay?” This seemed to only raise Jons unease and Martin, dropping the ties onto the bed after walking over to Jon, pulled his boyfriend up in his arms. 

“You can always just tell me, okay? If I should stop anything, if you want more of anything. It’s just short words that you can easily say if you’re not comfortable anymore.” Martin pressed a soft kiss onto Jons forehead. 

“This is meant to make you feel good and relaxed, remember? So it is important that you let me know if it’s not.” Jon nodded, now smiling again and pulling Martin into another kiss, the two of them just melting together again for a moment or two.

“Green means good, Yellow means slow down, Red means stop. I got it. Thank you. This actually… it’s good, you know. And I trust you.” Jons cheeks turned red again, radiating heat that Martin could feel against his own face. 

“I’ll keep you safe and I’ll take care of you, Jon. Just… relax.” And with that, Martin closed his hands around Jon’s wrists, guiding him back towards the bed until Jon couldn’t help but lie down there. Martin climbed onto the bed, taking both wrists into one of his hands while fumbling for the first of the silk ties. It felt strange and nice at the same time, knowing that he could close his fingers around both of Jon’s wrists, to be given this much trust and control. He started out slowly, using the first of the ties to just bind both wrists together, making sure to not disrupt any blood from flowing into Jon’s delicate fingers. 

“This okay?” he asked, tugging slightly at the material.

“Yes, green,” Jon answered with a smile. Martin hadn’t even really begun yet, but he was already so considerate of everything being nice for Jon, of him being comfortable. 

Martin smiled and continued to fasten the hands onto the headboard right above Jons head. He wouldn’t be able to move them much, but not be tied up in any way that could hurt him. Placing a kiss onto each wrist he slid back down towards Jon, kissing him. 

“You look so pretty like this.” The praise brought back the colour to Jon’s cheeks and Martin couldn’t help but kiss him a little more before continuing with the legs. He made a mental note to praise Jon a lot today, getting this nice reaction out of him again, all flustered and knowing how much Martin loved him. 

“Are you okay with your legs apart? It’ll fixate you more, but if you-” 

“Yes, yes please, Martin.” There was a husky tone in Jon’s voice that sent a nice shiver down Martin’s insides, straight down between his thighs. 

“Alright.” He took his time with each leg, petting and touching and again making sure that Jon was comfortable, that his legs were spread nicely but nothing could hurt. Once both of the ankles were bound to the bedposts, he could almost feel the tension leaving Jon’s body and he let out the softest sigh of pleasure, closing his eyes. Leaving Martin with this gorgeous sight of his boyfriend tied up before his eyes, having him all to his own like this. 

Deciding to let it start slowly he sat down next to Jon onto the side of the mattress. Jon’s hair looked utterly soft, spread out across the pillow and falling slightly into his eyes. Martin gently swept the stray strands out of Jon’s face and just continued to pet his hair, fingers weaving softly through it, massaging Jon’s scalp, making him sigh and go all boneless. 

* * *

They spent quite some time like this. Jon, lying there, eyes closed and able to completely relax, knowing that he was safe. Bound to the bed and never without Martin touching him, assuring him he was there. Telling him how pretty he was… Martin surely knew how to make Jon blush all over, he was sure by now not only his face but also his chest was flushed. Nothing could come here and hurt them, not even the Eye. Or could it? The thought suddenly pierced his brain, disturbing the blessed silence and _hmmm, good._

He started to squirm slightly, not even a voluntary reaction, just the deep relaxation fading a bit, him becoming more aware of his surroundings again. 

“Jon, are you alright? Give me a colour.”

“Green… just… thinking.” He opened his eyes to look up into Martin’s slightly worried face, that now morphed into a slightly sly grin.

“Oh.. well, if that’s the case, would you mind me… distracting you a bit more?” Martin’s gaze went up and down Jon’s entire, almost naked body. In any other situation, with any other person, Jon would have been mortified to lie there like this. Not with Martin though. He nodded before he could really think about it. It was the right thing to do. 

“Yes, please.” His voice was lower than he remembered it. He very rarely had ever felt like this. This strange want, this need to be close to someone, to have them near, touching, kissing, skin on skin. It never really came from inside him, but then Martin was already here and doing these things to him and he wanted more of it. It felt _so good_ to be loved. 

And then Martin started to kiss him. His cheeks first, his nose and then his lips, almost innocently, never too rough. Just enough to make his brain return to static noise. A part of him wanted his hands to be free and to be able to touch Martin, to feel him even closer. Another part knew that Martin was enjoying this, even if Jon couldn’t give him anything back at this moment. 

“You are doing so good, Jon,” Martin murmured against his ear, taking Jon’s earlobe between his teeth. His breath on Jon’s neck made him shiver all over and again he couldn’t just so suppress a moan, biting his lip trying to contain the sounds. 

“Oh, no, I want to hear you, please. You sound so lovely like this.” He kissed the soft spot right behind Jon’s ear and this time he couldn’t have held back even if he wanted to.

“ _Martin_.”

“That’s it. Do you have any idea how hot you are like this, Jon? All there for me, reacting so well…” And with that Martin began to kiss down Jon’s chest and Jon was sure he must have died and gotten into heaven somehow. There just was no other way how he could feel this _good._

When he felt fingers grazing along the band of his underwear Jon tensed involuntarily, not used to someone even coming close to down there, not having touched himself even in so long. There hadn’t been time or mindspace left for anything but statements. Now he realized how much he actually missed it, remembering the nice feeling of actually falling asleep after getting himself off, even if it didn’t give him more satisfaction than direly needed sleep. 

“Are you okay with this? I- I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

“It’s fine Martin. Green, very green. I just… it’s been a while.” 

“Oh. Sure, then- yeah, then I’ll continue. You just… relax.” Martin looked up at him, fond smile lightening up his freckled face. Every memory Jon might have had about feeling nice after touching himself at night faded when Martin’s hand slid inside his pants and his mouth returned to kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Right below his navel, slowly wandering down…

“Hmmm… _Martin_.” He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but moan the others name, when he was pulling down his underwear, when Martin’s hand was his cock and Martin’s lips were kissing along the inside of his thighs. 

“Still green?” All Jon could do was nod, Martin’s lips only an inch away from the tip of his cock and the thought of what he was about to do alone made Jon grow even harder than he was. 

“Tell me, Jon, what do you want me to do?”

“You… you know what… please…”

“Please what?”

“Please suck my cock, Marti- hngn!” Hot, wet lips wrapped around his dick, Martin’s tongue swirling around the tip, tasting the salty precome that must have already been leaking. If he had been able to form coherent thoughts before, pleasant ones or others, they now were wiped from his mind. All gone except for _Martin_ and _yes_ and _more_ and _please._

He lasted way too short a time, the heat building up inside of him, a hot orb of pleasure inside his stomach waiting to roll over him and take him completely. Jon was sure that he, in words more or less making sense, tried to warn Martin that he was close to coming, but Martin didn’t think of stopping. He did quite the opposite, swallowing Jon down whole, sucking hard while pressing his tongue against the underside of Jon’s cock and Jon’s whole vision went white as he came down Martin’s throat, moaning his name, back lifting from the mattress as far as his ties allowed him to.

Breathing heavily he sunk back against the soft ground, mind blank, eyes closed. A moment later Martin dropped down next to him, he could feel him on his side, chest heaving just as much as his. 

“That- that was…”

“Yeah.” Jon smiled, trying to get Martin to lie even closer to him. “Kiss me?” 

“You sure you want to- ?”

“Yes.” 

Jon wasn’t sure how long they were lying there this way, Martin half on top of him, warm and nice and heavy, pressing him into the mattress. Sharing lazy kisses, dozing off for a while.

* * *

“Jon? Are you awake?”

“Almost?” It was only a murmur, but Martin smiled and lifted himself up into a sitting position next to Jon. 

“Good. I’ll untie you now, okay? At least for a bit-,” He was interrupted by Jon making a displeased sound and opening his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like this Jon, you need to eat and drink something and stretch your limbs. Also probably get cleaned up.”

Jon thought about it for a moment, Martin could see it in his face, but he probably came to the same conclusion as Martin had - that it probably was for the best.

“Let’s make a deal. I’ll untie you, you go wash up and stretch a little while I get a glass of water and some food and you can just eat back in bed if you want to go back again?”

“Fine.”

The cracking sound Jon’s bones made as he stretched after Martin untied him only confirmed to Martin that it definitely was time for Jon to walk around a bit and take a break. Both cleaned up, and while Jon disappeared in the bathroom for a moment Martin got him a big glass of water, made some tea and found at least a bit of cheese and some still edible looking grapes and strawberries. He could just feed them to Jon back in bed, even when he was tied up again. That was a mental image he really wanted to make reality. 

“Martin?” 

“Rather impatient, are you? So eager to be nice and spread out there on the bed for me?” Martin leaned against the doorframe, water and food in his hands, taking in the lovely sight Jon made there, now completely naked on the bed. 

“ _Yes_.” Martin laughed, wondering for a moment when the last time was that he felt so incredibly, unbelievably loved and happy. They would have a lot of things to worry about… tomorrow. Jon took the glass of water and drank all of it in one go. 

“More?” Martin asked but Jon just shook his head, eagerly getting onto his knees and dragging Martin into a heated kiss.

“More of you, yes. More of _this_.”

These words made the heat crawl back into Martin's lower stomach, pretty pictures playing in his head, pictures of things he really wasn’t sure Jon would be comfortable doing. So he stopped himself in those thoughts. Later, he reminded himself. They had all the time they wanted now. They would be okay.

Jon was clearly feeling impatient, wanting to be back in his earlier position _now-_ but Martin had been thinking while they were taking a break, and he had other ideas. He didn’t just want to tie Jon up this time, he wanted to make it _better._ Prettier. Take his time with it, and make sure every little detail was just right, both for Jon’s comfort and his own enjoyment of looking at him.

Only if Jon wanted it, too, of course. But judging by the look on his face when he heard the idea, and the speed with which he nodded when asked if he was okay with trying it, that wasn’t exactly something Martin needed to worry about.

It had been a while since he’d had a chance to do anything like this, so he kept it simple. He wasn’t going to risk breaking the moment by pulling out his phone to look for a fancy tutorial, not when he had Jon looking at him so open and trusting. As Martin’s hands traveled over his body, checking knots and crisscrossing rope, he could feel his muscles relax. He’d started out sitting upright on the bed. By the time Martin was finished tying him up, he was slumped against him with his face pressed into his chest, the responses to questions like “Is this comfortable?” gradually turning into vague hums. Martin wrapped his arms around him as well, once his hands were no longer busy, and Jon went even _more_ limp in his embrace before being shifted to lie on the bed.

He couldn’t resist taking a moment to admire his work- and that _was_ half the point of the whole thing, wasn’t it? How lovely Jon looked like this, held together in the pretty patterns Martin’s silk rope made against his skin. He was so small in the middle of the bed, curled up on his side with his arms secured behind his back, unable to do much more than squirm. Martin watched him wake up a little from the meditative trance of sitting still for him while he was working, and then he looked up at him with eyes half-lidded and smiled softly.

“How are you feeling? Good?” Martin cupped Jon’s face with one hand, smiling back. Jon pressed into the touch and nodded.

As far as Jon was concerned, this was the best possible feeling. Between the just-right level of soothing pressure all around, his inability to move, and Martin looking at him so lovingly, he would be happy to stay just like this for the rest of the day, even if nothing else happened at all.

“I’m glad,” Martin said, keeping his voice low. He tucked a loose bit of hair behind Jon’s ear. “You’ll tell me if you need anything, right?”

He simply nodded again.

“Good.” His hand moved from Jon’s face down before stopping flat on his chest, bringing a soft noise from his throat. After a moment, Martin squeezed his shoulder once more and then moved away, but before Jon could be too disappointed at the loss of his touch, he turned back around with the plate of fruit and cheese he’d prepared.

Right, Jon had nearly forgotten about that. In his defense, things had become very hazy in his mind for a while.

Martin laughed at his expression. “What’s that look for?”

“Ah…” It was a little bit difficult, putting a sentence together right now, but he did his best. “I… Forgot there was food,” he admitted rather sheepishly.

“You _would,”_ Martin sighed. “Ridiculous man. It’s a good thing I’m here to take care of you, then, isn’t it?”

Jon was sure he looked completely, stupidly smitten. “It is.”

“Careful you don’t choke,” Martin warned- possibly not _the_ most romantic segue into hand-feeding his boyfriend pieces of fruit, but he _worried,_ alright? Jon didn’t seem to mind it, anyway. Jon would probably think _anything_ Martin said to him right now was the height of romance, judging by the look on his face. Rather than let himself get embarrassed, he moved on and picked up a grape.

Jon was surprised, in a distant sort of way, that he wasn’t more embarrassed by the whole situation himself. He couldn’t imagine himself, at any other point in his life, being at all willing to let anyone feed him grapes. Maybe it was the… unique circumstances. He _was_ helpless at the moment, after all, and letting Martin feed him was more dignified than any _other_ alternative he could think of. Or maybe he was simply having a weird few days and very much in love, and things that would normally be embarrassing didn’t matter so much any more.

Martin stroked his side, murmuring something about how well he was doing, and he realized he didn’t care to figure out the answer anyway. He stopped thinking about it and relaxed back into the moment. It wasn’t that hard to do, when the moment was so enjoyable, with sweet fruit to eat and the sun warming him through the window and _Martin._

“There you are.” Martin was relieved to see Jon come back to the present. “Not getting too deep in your head again, were you?”

“No… Just thinking a little.” He licked his lips unconsciously, and probably didn’t even realize what that did to Martin. “Thinking about how nice this is.”

A sappy smile took over his face. “That’s good. How about a strawberry now?”

Martin had a little bit of an ulterior motive with the strawberries. They were the big kind, too large to eat in one bite. Some of them, he had cut up into quarters, but there were a few he’d left whole, and it was one of these he offered Jon first. He made a pleased little sound upon biting into it, and didn’t seem to notice, much less care about the sweet juice staining his face until Martin leaned down and kissed it off him. Then, of course, he was rather preoccupied with kissing _back._ It wasn’t until Martin sat up again and finished off the strawberry himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, that Jon blinked and narrowed his eyes.

“Did you do that on purpose?”

He tried to keep a straight face, but ended up smiling. “Would you be upset if I had?”

“Mm, I don’t know. I think you’d better kiss me again to make up for it, just in case.”

Which he was very happy to do once, and then again, until he decided they ought to get back to the food before they _both_ forgot it existed.

Fed and bound up again, Jon started to drift in and out of sleep, and Martin was all too happy to let him rest and relax. He stayed in the room all the time, on the bed even, only getting up for a moment to grab a book. 

“Read?” Jon asked, his voice rough and dark and sending shivers down Martin's spine. 

“You want me to read it out loud?”

“Yes.” 

And so Martin did. For almost an hour Martin just read and read, somewhere in the middle of a book that Jon didn’t know, but he also didn’t seem to care too much about that. As long as it helped him fight the still lasting influence of the Eye, Martin would have done _anything_ for Jon. And having him tied up, feeding him and reading to him was really nothing he would complain about, he enjoyed it quite a bit. Back then, the bondage had always been a sexual thing, used only when things were about to go steamy. It was nice for Martin to see that it could also be something non-sexual, that it didn’t have to be all about sex.

But of course the book he had picked - one that he hadn’t read before himself - was one of the few quite _explicit_ romance novels he had once bought in a fit of loneliness. And as the two main characters met and things got heated, both him and Jon could feel the effects of the story spilling over onto them. Jon’s eyes were open now and the intense look with which he gazed up to Martin went straight to Martin’s dick.

“I- Jon, I know you… you,” his cheeks started to heat up and he took a moment, took a deep breath and tried again. Now was not the time to go shy all of a sudden.

“I’m gonna ask you something and I just want you do know that… you can say no and I will accept and it’s absolutely okay if you don’t want-”

“Martin, do you want to fuck me?” 

Martin’s jaw dropped open slightly, his cheeks burned with embarrassment and his trousers were uncomfortably tight by now. 

“I-, I… yes.”

“Good, because I really want you to do that.” Martin wasn’t proud of the sound that escaped his lips when he heard these words. He was certain that he had never seen or heard anything more sexy than tied up Jonathan Sims telling him to hurry up and fuck him. 

“O-Okay… but I think I’m… are you okay if I untie you for that?” 

“Maybe… just the legs?” 

“Fine.” 

He took his time again, gently loosening the silk ties, hands gliding up Jon’s legs, petting, kissing, murmuring praises against Jon’s skin. 

Martin knew he had lube somewhere and that they would need it, but where? He tried to rummage for it in the nightstand while sharing a heated kiss with Jon, almost hurting his shoulder in the process. 

“I- wait… where is that stupid…” Almost hanging off the mattress, Martin found himself awkwardly sprawled out over Jon and squinting at the nightstand to find the stupid bottle in the mess of aspirin, books, pens and tissues.

“Aha!” Martin triumphantly held up the lube like a trophy, making Jon laugh and shake his head. 

“Hey,” he replied to that, “you’re gonna be glad I found it. Now be good and spread those pretty legs for me, will you?”

Jon was only too willing to do so. He trusted Martin with his life and he trusted him with this. Martin wouldn’t hurt him and he had been nothing but considerate and- Ohh.

Martin had managed to open up the lube and now pressed one, probably slightly cold finger against Jon’s entrance. It made him let out the prettiest sounds, tiny moans und murmurs. His eyes were closed again. It was the loveliest sight Martin had ever seen. 

He took his time with Jon, on one hand to make sure he wouldn’t be hurting him and on the other hand just enjoying to watch him squirm and whimper in pleasure beneath his hands. Adding another finger only as he was sure Jon could take it, knowing he would have to add at least another one - Martin wasn’t exactly built on the small side in any regards. 

“Hmmhng… yes, more, green, please.” It had Martin grinning, of course now Jon would get demanding, tied up all nicely on the bed, completely at Martin’s mercy, two fingers in his ass. But on the other hand, who was Martin to deny such a sweet plea. He curled his fingers inside of Jon and the way that Jon squirmed and moaned underneath him had him sure that he found the right place. 

“You like that, huh?” Martin asked playfully, doing it again, and again, always hitting that sweet spot that made Jon’s cock twitch and smear precome onto his belly. 

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart, so nice and open for me already, what a lovely picture you’re making.” He had added a third finger and Jon was practically liquid beneath him. The combination of praise and stimulation he had never gotten before was almost too much. 

Martin stopped, apparently just in the right moment, leaving Jon moaning and groaning at the loss of stimulation. Jon tried to move, struggling against his ties, trying to get some kind of friction. 

“I- I- want to… please, touch…please...” Jon looked so desperate and Martin had to admit that he longed to be touched by Jon. So Martin slowly began to untie him. After every knot he opened he pressed a kiss right onto the place where the rope had been. Whenever Jon seemed to get impatient, Martin let his fingers wander down between Jon’s legs again, teasing and coaxing out some more delicious moans. Finally he tossed the rope off the bed and pinned Jon’s wrists down onto the mattress right over Jon’s head. He could fit both of them in just one of his hands. Back in a position that allowed him to kiss Jon’s mouth, Martin couldn’t resist but doing just that, a kiss much more urgent than before, hot and pressing and a fight of tongues. His dick brushed against Jon’s as he shifted, positioning himself between the other's legs. 

“Ready?” he half moaned, half whispered against Jon’s wet lips, almost unable to wait for the _yes_ Jon responded with. It took all the strength he had to not go too fast, to take his time, to let Jon adjust to his size and the new sensations. With a groan he bottomed out against Jon’s ass, kissing him again and then letting go of Jon’s wrists to support himself. The moment he started to move Jon’s hands were all over him. On his back, his neck, in his hair, touching, petting, feeling. It was as if Jon had just been waiting for that, and now, safely pinned into the mattress by Martin’s cock, it was okay that his hands were free. He wouldn’t be moving anywhere anytime soon. 

None of them lasted long, but Martin didn’t care. The overwhelming sensation of Jon, the man he loved, wrapped around him, being inside of him while he grabbed his back hard enough to leave red streaks, the moans and pleas and whispers… it was too much and not enough and Martin could feel the heat pooling up in his lower body. 

“J-Jon, I’m…” 

“Martin~” 

Hearing his name like this brought him over the edge, and Martin came inside of Jon, not stopping to move until Jon was almost screaming in pleasure. Not stopping until Jon also came, untouched, beneath him. Only then he pulled out and collapsed on top of his boyfriend, panting, gasping and trying to come back down to earth. 

When he realized he was practically still squishing Jon into the bed he wanted to roll off of him, suddenly aware of him being much heavier than Jon-

“Don’t you dare move.” Jon whispered into his ear, but he made it very clear that this was not up for debate. Martin laughed, moving just as much as he had to to be able to kiss Jon, but staying where he was. 

“Fine, but only for a few minutes, then I’ll put both of us into the bathtub.” Jon mumbled something against his lips that sounded like an agreement. So they just lay there, sweaty and exhausted and so utterly and terribly in love that Martin felt his heart hurting with trying to process all these feelings. His brain still refused to really acknowledge that they really had made it. That they burned the Institute down. That they were free and that the Eye’s influence on Jon was fading more and more with every minute. 

“I love you,” he whispered against Jon’s lips in between lazy kisses. It was a truth so simple and clear to him, such a natural thing to say. The afterglow of their lovemaking had his mind hazy enough to stifle any upcoming panic, to suppress the thoughts that it might have been too soon. 

“I love you, too, Martin,” Jon answered, pulling him back into a kiss, and another. “Took me way too long to realize. I was an idiot.”

“Maybe.” Martin grinned now and his low chuckle vibrated through both their bodies. “But you are _my_ idiot, so that’s okay.”

* * *

They eventually made it out of the bed and into the bathtub, cleaning themselves. Martin couldn’t resist washing Jon’s hair again today, massaging his head while he was actually awake and not barely standing and weakened from exhaustion. 

Tomorrow they would have to face reality. Would have to meet with Tim and Melanie, would probably have to talk to the police. Tomorrow. 

Tonight was for them only. 


End file.
